


close enough to love

by playmaker



Series: liminal spaces [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff, M/M, i love yous in their own way, this is disgusting fluff thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 02:00:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playmaker/pseuds/playmaker
Summary: confessions that neither of them really had to say, because both of them already understood.





	close enough to love

**Author's Note:**

> this is short im just... yeah

They’re on the rooftop, cigarettes forgotten in exchange for a silence between them that is nothing if not _home_.

Neil feels it dancing under his tongue, catching on his teeth, and it feels wrong. Three words, three syllables, eight letters, and it feels too small; too contained.

It’s the same, in a way, as when Nicky once asked if Neil was Andrew’s boyfriend, and almost got his arm broken for it. It isn’t too _big_ of a word— it’s less than they are, and no word can envelop everything Neil and Andrew make together. Soulmates, maybe, but even then, there’s something trivial about it that makes even that word sit just a little off balance.

The sky is a swirling haze of purples and blues and oranges and reds, colliding and ricocheting, all at once in harmony and at war. _I love you,_ Neil thinks. _I love you because I don’t know how else to describe this feeling._

Andrew is staring towards the horizon, the lingering scent of burning tobacco sticky on his fingertips. _You’re beautiful,_ Neil thinks. _I love everything about you, but 'everything' has never been translated for me. I’m nothing and this is nothing but you are everything._

Neil is staring, he knows, and he’s sure Andrew knows too. Hazel eyes burning liquid gold in the fading sunlight flicker to his, a frigid blue, and Neil feels like he is falling. _I am not your answer,_ Neil reminds himself, a silent conversation. _You are not my answer,_ he thinks, and the ending feels too open. _You are not my answer, but my reason, maybe._

Andrew keeps his gaze for a moment longer, and sees something in Neil’s expression that has him tilting his head ever so slightly to the side.

 _I’m in love with you,_ he thinks, and Andrew must see it.

Neil opens his mouth to speak after a moment passes, but Andrew’s hand comes up to cover it before he can even draw in a breath.

“Don’t,” he says, not angry, but not quite without any emotion.

Neil reaches up slowly, enough time for Andrew to pull away, and gently grasps the hand over his mouth, just above the wrist. Andrew lets him take it away from his mouth, a complicated look on his face. 

Neil can see it not in his eyes, but in the way Andrew’s pale eyebrow twitches and his hands are kept too steady to be unintentional.

“Let me say this,” Neil whispers, moving Andrew’s hand to cup his cheek.

Andrew swallows, hardly a tell for anyone else, but answer enough for Neil. He breathes in, shaky, and closes his eyes, leaning into Andrew’s hand burning against his skin. Neil often thinks that if it was possible, he’d want every one of Andrew’s touches branded into his skin, covering his scars. Healing by burying.  _I would live for you, after all,_ he thinks.  _You're amazing, you're everything, you're beautiful, and I am not afraid of you. I am not afraid of us._

“I don’t— Andrew, I love you, and, and I know that it’s just words, and I know that it doesn’t really mean anything. That it never has, for us, but,” Neil pauses, letting Andrew stop him. He doesn’t, but his eyes flicker with something, just for a moment. “I’ll never say it again, because I know it isn’t something I need to say ever again, because I know you’ll know, but right now, Andrew, I want you to listen.”

Andrew makes a small noise in his throat, an agreement, a green light telling him _well then, get on with it_.

Neil’s fingers, unsteady and cold, reach for Andrew’s other hand and he doesn’t take his eyes off of him. He brings the hand up, slowly, until he’s holding both of them in place, cradling either side of Neil’s jaw. He smiles, slow and soft and a little sad, years of hurt and years of healing settling heavy between the two of them.

“I’m in love with you, Andrew Minyard,” he says, finally. “In the way love's supposed to be. The way that encompasses. I love you in the way that I— I’m devoted to you, because I want to be, and I care about you more than anyone, because I want to, and I adore you, and I think the world of you, and I would do anything for you, because that’s how I _feel_ , and I’m only saying _love_ because I think love is supposed to mean all of that, all in one word.

“It doesn’t, not really, and I know you think it’s a pointless word. Honestly, I do too, but I want to make all of this clear, right now, and then I swear I’ll never say it again. I love you, and I’m _in_ love with you, and it will always, always be a yes with you.”

Andrew stares at Neil when he finishes, a war of his own going on behind flickering eyes, closed doors. Finally, he settles on: “You’re being stupid.”

He says it quietly, though, and Neil knows Andrew understands; never _doesn’t_ understand, when it comes to the two of them.

Neil huffs a laugh, suddenly tired, and lets his head fall forward, hands dropping from Andrew’s and Andrew’s hands dropping from his cheeks to sit limp between them.

“I know,” Neil replies, smiling and knowing Andrew can’t see it from where Neil’s head hangs low, but knowing he can hear it in his voice.

Neil watches as Andrew reaches up and steadies a hand on the back of his neck, his thumb digging into Neil’s pulse in silent request to look up. He does, and Andrew’s eyes are honeyed and honest and bright.

“Don’t say it again,” Andrew warns, and Neil tries to stop the smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to, because we both know what we know, and we’ve always been fine like that.”

Andrew doesn’t say it, but Neil hears it all the same: _me too, me too, I love you too._

Neil watches Andrew’s gaze, conflicted, shift between his eyes and his lips. He wonders if Andrew thinks the word _love_ is too small for them, too.

When Andrew whispers _yes or no_ into the quiet that settles, a world of their own suspended in infinity, Neil decides Andrew has known all along.

**Author's Note:**

> lmk of any errors as always.  
> comments & kudos super appreciated!! love you guys


End file.
